In patience, awaiting the last
Of luck to make complete the potluck,
Beauty’s eventual evolution, a rose
Growing inside a well, to spring, bloom
In sun, a long way coming, a long way
A wishing well, a well-wisher
For all hearts beating, resting,
Uncrossed thresholds of worlds
To come, to make lovers of them all,
On the ninth of the penultimate
In patience still.
Copyright © 2013 Shainbird. All rights reserved.
NaNoWriMo Day 9: 1988